The innocent love of defenselessness

On the drive to work this morning,  I found myself reflecting on the sheer gentleness Jesus must have radiated, the pure love and innocence he must have exuded.  

I was struck by the thought that we all on some level have been infected by the "pursuit of power" virus that controls the world and our lives - even those of us who live, work and strive for peace - in our hearts and in our world; even those of us who want to be fully drenched with heavenly love, even those of us who have turned away from the ways of our world. 

Maybe we are all infected by that power-control virus that has seduced us, lured us into its den of vipers where we feel incompetent, unlovable, simply not good enough.  As a result of feeling that way, we've learned how to put on armor and we check each other out to see if our armor is as good as an other's and they do the same thing to us.  With our armor  on we feel powerful, acceptable, good enough, even pretty good and yet we're as phony as every one else. Inside our armor, if we are honest, we feel isolated, lonely, unseen and unloved. 

While waiting at a red light, my windshield wipers sweeping away the tears from another Portland morning rain, I wondered what he might have been like in person.  Would he have had an edge, a wizened wit that could see right through you reducing you to feeling wholly inadequate?  Would he have had the vision to see all your faults and issues which might cause you to feel a bit embarrassed to be seen so clearly, spiritually naked?  I think we like to hide our fears and known faults. Would he have made us feel like a sinner, a bad person, incomplete somehow? Would he ask us to change in order to receive God's love?   I wondered if he would not have felt attractive to us as a person with a strong powerful personality who charismatically compels our misplaced respect?  I don't think so.  

I think his vision is so true that he would see all the way to our core where God's own self is united with ours. There, all we are is the beautiful light of God.  He would see who we really are, not what we have become in this twisted, distorted, broken mirror of life. He also would not see our armor or our pretense. He would be so gentle, so calming, so sweet yet truly sincere that we might not realize the power that he really held?  Would we not have loved him as much if we realized how innocent he truly is? We have been taught to value and respect the worldly power-wielding controllers, the tyrannical.  While we resist that, how deep is that programming?  

I thought how much we are all addicted to power-seeking and powerful people.  I don't mean we're really addicted to controlling manipulators, but we are all easily intimidated by those who feel somehow more powerful, more confident, more put together and we want to emulate them.  We want to dress like we're somebody.  We want to impress people with our skills, jobs, education, money, spouse or children.  We want to appear important.  We want to feel important and we want to feel influential and powerful.  I think we don't realize how much we do this and I think we do this because we don't know how much we really want to feel loved.  

One of my challenges to worldly success has been an inability to seem very powerful.  I just don't come across as powerful. I don't act or dress for success and quite frankly, I don't care.  Of course, I've paid the price for it, but isn't that price the price Jesus told us we would pay if we followed him?  Didn't he say that if the world despised him, they would despise his followers?   And yet, it seems that so many of us somehow feel like losers because we can't - or won't - fit into the way of the world, the power games that many people everywhere in the world, in every social structure, every country, every religion seem to subscribe to.  I think we may have forgotten that we are better off poor because then we don't fit into the power paradigm.  

By the time I got to work this morning, I'd had a stunning realization of what Jesus might have meant when he said "whatever we do to the least of these, your brethren, we do unto him."  It seems that he is telling us that he is as pure as those who cannot - or won't - fit into the power circles, or move among the beautiful people, the fashionable elite.  

I think his purity of heart would have been completely without that condescending attitude of one who would help another publicly so he would seem praiseworthy, more powerful, more important or so he could just feel better than another. Whatever we do to another reflects our own human honesty, our own innocence, our own defenselessness.  Do we see an other's pain or their joy, their beauty, their sweetness, their love?  Another person can feel what we're looking at in them.  If we judge them, they feel that judgment. They feel badly about themselves. If we appreciate them, they feel that too. They feel loved and accepted. 

As I made my way in the early morning, darkness still shrouding the parking lot, I realized that those who are infected by the power and control virus of our world, might not consider Jesus very important, or very impressive or even very powerful in person because he would not have had that self important person persona.  But, his love, oh his love - now that would have been palatable, I thought. He may feel like a kind gentlemen.  I wondered if we've all become so numb to that kind of truth and warmth in a human being, that kind of innocence and gentleness that we might misunderstand it as powerlessness rather than powerfulness? Would we think he was insignificant because he didn't judge us, he didn't call us sinners?  

What if he loved us instead of condemning and judging us? What if we felt that beautiful fluid peace of his love?  What if his love touched us in such a penetrating way that our lives were changed forever, healed of all the toxic insults hurled at us throughout our lives?  Then, I wondered, "Do we want to be loved or do we want to feel powerful?"  If we say we are liberated, spiritual freedom seekers, we might want to ask ourselves that question.  Do we want to feel loved or feel powerful?  Is power-seeking a poor substitute for love?

As I entered through the double glass doors, I smiled at the janitor with whom I share a word or two each morning in Spanish, and waved to the guy at the service desk and then punched in.  For the first time in a long time, I realized how blessed I was that I had the beautiful opportunity to work with those who are the "salt of the earth," as my mother would say,  none of whom are important nor do they think they should be and are so very lovable because of it.  

I felt for a moment that love was what I wanted to be about and in that love receive the lord's perfect peace and simplicity of being.  I took a deep breath, put on my apron and went to work.  Today I would serve a bit more love to everyone,  a love they would feel because each person I would meet today was sent to me by God to love.  Maybe that's what its all about really.  Maybe its all about loving each other innocently and opening our hearts to each other while risking our own sense of vulnerability.  Maybe that's all we have to do, despite how scary it might feel.